


Manus Vestras

by MaK



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-10
Updated: 2012-09-10
Packaged: 2017-11-13 22:30:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/508416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaK/pseuds/MaK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>i can't give a proper summary because there isn't a plot</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manus Vestras

**Author's Note:**

> written on my phone blah blah errors

She knocks the two of your foreheads together lightly - the equivalent to nuzzling for a troll - and rattles about this dress and that as you lightly finger the fabric of her shirt politely. It's cotton, not fancy like the dresses she makes and the things she'll design, but thicker than usual and soft. Kanaya acknowledges your interest quietly, chews it down, and dismisses it. Her own attire, compared to others, is admirable even in this laid back stage. You wish there was a way to kiss something with your fingertips. 

"Lost in thought, Rose?" you hear her voice ring. You like it. The soft undertone is hidden under the sharp crackling of the Alterian tongue, but it's there regardless. Even when infuriated she's always been curious and meddling and it's something you only find funny and cute when she's not buzzing into your own affairs. 

"Mmhmmm," is all you say. You're slightly scared that, if you opened the mouth you've painted black, all that will come out is remarks to her beauty and skills and how damn loveable you find Kanaya Maryam at every living moment. You could write an epic with all the things you'd like to compliment about that girl. For example, her eyes are fading from black to jade and the transition has gotten you paralyzed. You've gotten used to the sickly yellow. 

Kanaya gives you an odd look, but knows better to ask, so she quietly eases back into the conversation of colors and designs and how you look rather dashing in black. You think she looks rather great in bright, vivid colors with fetching designs. She blushes and thanks you with a peck on your cheek. "I hadn't meant to speak aloud," it comes out squeaky and you brush her palm with your thumb. 

"It was appreciated, love." Her voice still sounds like sap seeping out of the tree. The ridges of bark catch the vowels and draw them taught and quick. Her fangs chip at the consonants just enough to be noticed. It's sweet, regardless; you can picture yourself getting lost within it for days.

Neither of you speak much nowadays. The meteor has gotten to your sanity and you'd much rather sit around looking at walls and staring upon inked pages while listening to her sounds and movements and anythings. Particularly, you like the click of her tongue when she's irritated. 

Today, neither of you are researching or running with others to the next dream bubble landscape. Meeting dead folks has never sounded very fun, but today it seems ultimately unpleasant. You're perfectly fine sitting on this lovely, plain couch with a lukewarm troll girl sitting besides you. Perfectly fine with her nails catching your skin as she pulls your hands apart for whatever, fine with the content sigh she makes, the purr in her throat when you pet the spot above her ear, and Kanaya in general is something you're perfectly fine with.

Her fingers come to rest on your open palms. You watch them with mute appreciation for your differences. Her skin is pure white and insistently glowing, while yours is a pale tan dotted with freckles. She fingers the freckles besides the veins on your wrist. Your toe taps her foot lightly. She hums in response and says, "You're a rather beautiful being, Rose."

"I'm a goddess," you mumble. It sounds sad and weak leaving your mouth but, honestly, you are content. Tired and insane on this meteor, but content. "Beauty comes naturally."

"I hope you realize before your arrival into godhood, you were still very... cute." Internally, you wince at the word. By the playful smirk on her ever curious face, you know she thinks it's perfect for you. "Adorable, even."

"You're also quite radiant, love."

She flicks the back of your head and you grin. You feel frail and vulnerable and... importantly unimportant. The meteor has been so boring and quiet and the dream bubbles, as of late, have only proven depressing. But you like it here. Kanaya's slight warmness is comforting and keeps you close and the shine of her fangs and the roar of her chainsaw keeps others away. After a few moments of silence, the troll begins babbling about how your, nearly white, complection really brings out your, much darker, eyes. 

"I noticed the jade filling out," you mumble. Leaning into her chest and hiding your face between yours and Kanaya's chests, you feel safe and loved - or, at least, needed. Wanted? Kanaya places her hand on your spine and makes a low purr and you feel a bit of both. 

"It looks stupid beside the yellow," she says. You chortle and it sounds airy and sick. Can you get ill in space? Maybe the alien food? You don't necessarily care. 

"I disagree," you respond. "I think - with confidence and some make-up - they'd look quite nice."

You can sense her thinking this over in her mind. Nuzzling your head deeper between the two of you - almost like a ball save for your hands coming out to hold hers - Kanaya clicks her tongue in a way you've defined as confused or oblivious. She says something but you drift off with your cheek pressed against her breast and your fingers entwined with hers. 

 

Terezi wakes you up later with her tongue rolling up your cheek. As you wave her off and she cackles, you hardly acknowledge the slick, teal-tainted, sticky saliva along your wrist and palm. "Orange and lemons!" she calls. 

In an absent and muggy state of mind, you ask where your troll vampire girlfriend/matesprit went. Terezi has left and you can faintly hear her giggling from a ways away. You figure Kanaya might be in her respite block, or with Karkat, so you stay on the mound of quilts with very little motivation to move. 

 

The next time you wake up, she's beside you with a novel in hand. The title is the cover and, from your disappointing ability to read Alternian, you absorb that it's another romance novel. Kanaya is all over these things. Her hand is splayed over your palm and the small warmth is nice. 

"Good morning," you greet. In actuality, it could be four in the afternoon and it wouldn't matter. It never will, really. 

Kanaya's hands tense when you speak but immediately relax afterward. You've startled her and this makes you want to apologize but she begins talking before you can. 

"Same to you, Rose." When you go to apologize, she leans down and presses her lips to yours. 

It's at these moments you understand exactly how many emotions trolls have and how high they actually run. Her tongue on yours sends a soothing heat through your entire body, but, most importantly, it causes a sweetly tight clench in your heart and you sigh into the kiss.


End file.
